


Five Ways Rodney McKay Surprised Samantha Carter

by Ladycat



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: implied Rodney/John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:46:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Ways Rodney McKay Surprised Samantha Carter

1\. The first time she saw him, post-kiss-on-the-cheek he was surprisingly withdrawn around her. Not to the point where he wasn't either obnoxious or mildly misogynistic -- just a little more hesitant. At least, until Daniel came back in the room, anyway. 

Sam prides herself on being a pretty good judge of character, but this makes her think things she never would've previously thought about the arrogant Dr. Rodney McKay.

2\. They've got two hours before they'll try and engage the wormhole and Cheyenne is a beehive of busy, buzzing activity. Sam hates it, but she's got this thing about being professional with her colleagues so she makes a point of hunting him down, just to wish him well and silently remind him how glad she is that he'll be _worlds_ away, and not just thousands of miles.

When she sees him, though, he's not frantically bullying the rest of the lab into doing what he wants. In fact, the lab is perfectly empty. It's just McKay and the ZPM, and he's sitting on the work bench, casually in control they way he never is when he thinks there's an audience -- which she'd thought meant _always_. He's not doing anything, just turning it over and over in his hands, gentle as a lover's, red-gold light shadowing his face into deep caverns. He looks beautiful, like this.

"You'n me," he says to the ZPM, a soft croon of contentment, "we're gonna go places."

It's the most delicate thing she's ever heard him say, and more importantly, it's not arrogant or over reaching or any of the other things she often accuses him of. It's _science_ , pure and simple, and she's annoyed at herself that she's forgotten this fundamental fact. McKay is an overbearing asshole with an ego the size of Australia, but he loves what he does. He loves every part of it, from successes to failures, just like every other scientist who knows that failure is often the only way to reach success.

She kisses him again, before he leaves, and hopes she's better at hiding her surprise over how good it feels.

3\. She replays the message, over and over again. The information McKay has provided, neat and organized well, which means someone else has a hand in the filing and documenting, is fascinating and will takes weeks of study for her to absorb even a fraction of what the Atlantis expedition -- and primarily McKay himself -- has discovered. It's not the science videos she watches, though, or the schematics meticulously scrawled with McKay's surprisingly neat handwriting.

It's the death-note.

Scientists don't think like military personnel. Sam and General O'Neill, even Colonel Mitchell, all know that death-notes are important, that it's a way to give yourself peace before the firing squad arrives, tie up any loose ends that might remain. Everyone in the SGC has one, updated as regularly as they can. What's surprising about this isn't that the death-note exists -- it's that, according to Major Sheppard's incredibly short reports, it was McKay's idea.

And watching him as he rambles through his pre-planned bravado into the kind of true fear that Sam and her team has felt dozens of times, the _oh, god, oh god, we're really going to die this time, for real_ , it hits her that this has always been a part of McKay. That this is _him_ , no artifice or mask, and that she's never allowed herself to see it.

Of course, that toxic personality doesn't help...

4\. They've been back three days and the adrenaline has finally slowed down, their bodies starting to serve IOU's left too-long unattended. McKay is haggard as he floats through the SGC labs, a ghost-like presence that rattles its chains when he remembers, but otherwise is too exhausted to do more than bark. It's an odd situation for her people, who are more familiar with McKay's infected bites, and they start shooting her glances whenever she and McKay are in the same room together.

All right, message received.

She takes him out to dinner, almost dragging him away from the lab he's spent a few listless, unproductive hours in. He constantly looks over his shoulder, watching doors and windows like he's expecting someone else to be there. It's a little insulting, really, and Sam is disgusted that she feels that way. She's never encouraged McKay's attentions, but to have him be this empty and lackluster around her pushes her to do things she normally never would've contemplated.

When they've finished, McKay drowsy and pliant with wine, she kisses him. It's not a very good kiss, too short, too chaste, and she can taste the bitter uppers that are still flooding his system, keeping him from the true rest he desperately needs. All of that is expected, though, because Sam _knows_ McKay.

Except she doesn't.

"I, uh -- it's not that -- I mean, really, that was _great_ , but -- " Blue eyes implore her to understand what the frantic, stuttering babbling can't convey.

He doesn't want her to kiss him. He genuinely doesn't want it. In fact, he's a little horrified by it.

Sam isn't sure who she's surprised at more: him, and his shocking reaction of dismay, or her, and her feeling of rejection, sharp enough to burn acidic and tight in the back of her throat for days.

5\. They're flush with another victory, swooping down over Atlantis' sun-soaked beauty because Cam wants a longer look now that they have a little more time. He's at the big picture window in the observation deck, cooing and muttering to himself about all the things he could do with a city like that, and how damned jealous he is of Sheppard.

McKay is there, too.

It's surprising, since Sam was pretty sure that Mitchell is the last person he wants to see right then -- possibly behind Sheppard, but they might be tied. He's not saying anything, though, tucked back against the wall, hands bulging in his pockets. Cam may not even know he's there, she realizes, glancing between them, especially since it's not the fair city that McKay is looking at.

It's Cam he's watching, a faint smile on his crooked mouth, blue eyes dancing with a light previously reserved for ZPM's or proving her wrong.

The deck is big enough that Sam leans against him, saying, "Hey," like it's nothing, nothing at all.

McKay's smile grows a little bit broader and he pulls a hand out of his pocket, showing off the lemon Cam had threatened him with not so many hours before. She winces. "Yeah," she says, letting the last syllable draw out. "About that -- "

"It's fake," McKay interrupts her. His voice is soft, something she'd previously thought impossible for him. His settings had always been 'loud' and 'deafening'. He tosses the lemon up in the air, catching it, and Sam notes how the rind doesn't give even a little under the pressure of his fingers, the pads whitening slightly as he squeezes.

Plastic. It's _plastic._ And Cam didn't know that?

McKay smirks at her, which is reassuring only in its familiarity, and pockets the lemon again. "I'm a better actor than I used to be," is all he says.

It takes her the rest of the day, and then part of another to understand everything she thinks he's telling her, and when she does, she laughs and laughs until Daniel and Cam are both worried about her sanity and Vala just smirks at her, not understanding what it's about, but recognizing the uniquely feminine _eureka_ for exactly what it is.


End file.
